Chapter 2
James lay quietly, listening to the leaves brush together, blown softly by the wind. He was in a small clearing, with branches interlocked in arches high over his head, like a perfect shelter. For being such a dangerous place, the Forbidden Forest sure was beautiful. There was little sunlight filtering through lush greenery, but plenty enough to show the vividly colored flowers around him. He was still in his stag form, and he saw no reason to leave it... it was probably about midday, now, and he really didn't want to have to go to class.
Yawning, he rolled forward from his comfortable position laying on his side, only to remember why he was where he was as pain laced sharply up his leg. He whimpered slightly, flinching back to lie down in the soft grass again. Now that he'd noticed, he couldn't forget. His leg must've broken yesterday, and being on so much adrenaline, he'd kept running on it.
It was fine. He deserved it. He'd worried Remus, pissed off Sirius, and run off to the middle of the forest that no one would find him in. Students weren't allowed here, and teachers avoided it if at all possible.
No one would find him.
He'd be alone.
He couldn't go anywhere with a broken leg, not as a stag.
He couldn't turn back into a human, it would fuck up his leg- or arm, in his human form- even more, and he'd risk it never healing properly.
James was stuck, alone, and useless. He couldn't call for help, there were way too many dangerous creatures in these woods, and it was unlikely anyone would hear him anyway. He didn't know how far he'd run yesterday, but he knew he'd run until he had practically passed out.
Well, shit, he thought, realizing the gravity of his situation. He could eat some of the grass nearby if he was hungry, but he had no idea where the nearest water source was. He wouldn't be able to walk to find it... unless...
James tried to push himself to his hooves again. He had three legs, that was surely enough, right? He grimaced in pain, unable to choke down a small cry of pain. That was stupid- Remus had dealt with way worse and always been quiet and as sweet as normal. Sirius had taken more Crucios from his parents than James could imagine, and he didn't complain. James was just fucking weak.
He swayed unsteadily, trying to find his balance on three legs. Deer didn't die every time they injured a leg, surely he could figure this out- he yelped again as he crashed into the ground. He curled up as tightly as possible, his leg feeling as if it were on fire. Upon attempting to look at it, it was clearly swollen, and bent, and he could feel heat radiating off of it. Wasn't that a sign of infection or something? How the hell would that happen, it was an internal injury- oh.
No, it was not.
James resisted the urge to vomit, finally seeing what had happened. The bone was poking out of his leg. His short fur was soaked in blood, looking black where it had dried and crusted.
He wasn't getting out of this, was he? He'd die here. His only chance would be to turn into a human, but... He might lose his arm forever if he did.
It's his fucking arm. He couldn't- it didn't matter that it was his left hand, his non-dominant hand, that's his ARM.
Was an arm worth a life? Would it be a life, being handicapped, and needing someone to help him through everything? Would that really be better than dying of dehydration right here in this lush, beautiful clearing? He'd be alone, but it just meant he wouldn't be found. He'd decompose and finally be able to help something. Maybe the beautiful flowers growing around him would grow up through his skeleton. That'd be okay, in his opinion.
He inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut. He'd just sleep for now. A better way to pass the time.
James jerked back to awareness when a bolt of pain flew through his leg. Raising his head, he saw a small black cat sniffing at it, glancing up at him in an almost apologetic way. James sighed and laid his head back down. Just some damn cat. It'd surely be off on its way soon.
He bleated half out of surprise and half out of pain when the cat nudged his leg again, swinging his head over to look at it. It took a step back as he grunted angrily, tucking his leg slightly closer with a wince, and ducking his head over it. If he turned his head sharply right now, his antlers could probably impale it right then and there. He didn't want to do that.
The cat blinked, almost understanding in a way. He pushed closer to James' face and nuzzled him, like some sort of reassurance, before backing up and sitting a little ways away from him. He stared at him for a moment, like he was considering something.
He sat there for what was probably around thirty minutes before he turned and ran off. James sighed and settled down again, puzzling over the cat a bit. Maybe he was an animagus? Would he come back?
He heard a nearby squirrel chitter angrily, dashing into the trees. That could mean danger, or- oh, it was just a doe. She'd probably smelled him or something, and of course, had assumed he was just one of her species. Did she get separated from her herd? Apparently not, as two other does and a fawn walked out behind her. There wasn't a stag, though, so maybe something had happened to him. Was that why they were there? Were they looking for protection?
One of them made a soft sound, walking forward and watching him. If James had been in his human form, he would have facepalmed. Instead, he lowered his head and pinned his ears back, an irritated grunt building in his throat. He didn't want any of these weird animals around, he just wanted to lay down here and- well.
He wanted his mom.
The doe nearest to him stepped back, seeming almost confused. The fawn stepped forward, curious, and one of the does, most likely its mother, made a distressed sort of noise. The fawn sniffed James, and he very nearly took the fawn off their feet with a swing of his antlers. He wouldn't actually hurt him, just attempting to get the point across. He didn't really know how to communicate as a deer, normally just going off instinct, but that wasn't really helpful, as he instinctively wanted to go with them. Fortunately, the does seem to take the hint and they left pretty quickly.
Making a small, irritated, growly sound, James laid his head back down and tried to go back to sleep. He was tired and dizzy. He wanted some water, but he didn't know where to find any, or if he'd be able to travel far enough. He looked around the area carefully, studying it. It was definitely farther than he'd ever gone before, but he was pretty sure he knew which direction Hogwarts was in. If he could just get back there, maybe someone could help him.
Well, that wasn't great. James decided to check over his own injuries instead. There was his leg, covered in dirt and blood, with the bone having ripped through the skin when he'd missed the last jump on the roof yesterday, which... wasn't looking good. Other than that, he had some bruises and scrapes, some presumably from the desperate dash through the woods rather than the fall, based on their positioning. He was hungry, though, and so he started chewing some of the nearby grass. Thank Merlin he was a stag, adapted to living in forests like this one.
Eventually, he looked up to see the sun setting, and he set his head down again to rest, only to find that he wasn't able to go back to sleep. Instead, he was just thinking. About his friends, what they'd think about him running off like that. He was really an asshole for that, worrying them when Remus just needed his help. He thought about his family. Would they be told he was missing? Did his teachers even know he was missing? What if Sirius and Remus had told them he was an animagus? He'd go to Azkaban, surely, as he wasn't registered. Surely they wouldn't tell? Well, even if he could go back to Hogwarts like this, they'd have to find out eventually if he were to get medical help. Remus, as smart as he was, wasn't great at healing magic. Sirius couldn't really stand the sight of blood, so even though he could do some minor healing spells, he'd probably pass out or something instead. And Peter... well, he wasn't that great of a wizard.
None of this really mattered, though, as he couldn't get back to Hogwarts anyway. James was going to die here, whether it was from an infection, starvation, or dehydration, he couldn't do anything. Even if he was found he'd be locked up for years for being an undocumented animagus.
Eventually, James fell into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning under the shelter of the trees, listening to the rustling of their leaves. The sound seemed eerie when accompanied by the distant howls of werewolves.
But of course, James never got any peace. A werewolf burst into his peaceful clearing, trampling flowers and growling up a storm. He'd probably smelled the blood. Usually, werewolves would only go after humans- uncontrollably, they were seized with the urge to attack any people they saw. If they smelled blood, though, they'd be after you unless there was something any closer.
Well, this was different from how he'd thought he would die.
Just as the werewolf lunged for him, a big black dog jumped out of the bushes behind him, barking fiercely. Was that-? Padfoot! So that meant that was Moony. Moony skidded to a stop in front of Padfoot. He saw Padfoot as his packmate, by his wolf instincts, and so he wouldn't hurt him. That didn't mean he wouldn't hurt someone else if Pads tried to get him not to, but usually, he could distract him. Moony had explained once, clearly upset, that he couldn't really consider Prongs or Wormtail packmates, since they weren't canines. He would just ignore them like other animals.
Moony would hate himself if he killed James by accident.
James only wished he could tell him it wasn't his fault.